An excerpt from Os Doran’s first thriller, Nudge Nudge Wink Wink Die

Copyright © 2017 Riis Marshall and Turfhill Court Press

Os Doran, close protection security consultant, turned onto final and the deafening silence from the rear seat told him at the very least they were not going to die. He was learning to fly gliders. Today it was not about flying them—he was already reasonably good at this, today it was about landing them, an entirely different matter. Maybe this is something of a metaphor for life, one only gets one chance at it.

He rolled out of his turn six-hundred feet above the ground instead of where his instructor told him he should be—three hundred. His turn was well-coordinated; it was just that damned height! He extended the airbrakes fully and worked the elevator—up and down, up and down. The nose followed and his speed control went all to hell: instead of his planned forty-five knots, theirs fluctuated from a little too fast fifty to a much too fast seventy.

He kept the brakes fully open and struggled with the speed. He closed them to half when they were twenty feet above the grass and was able to get their speed down to something near fifty-five knots—more or less. Still no sound from behind him. They hit the ground with a resounding thud that did no damage other than to his now quite fragile ego. They rolled to a stop and the right wing dropped slowly to the ground.

Finally, a quiet response from the back seat: ‘That wasn’t a landing – that was an arrival.’

Os said nothing.

They climbed out, pushed the glider to the edge of the runway and waited for the tractor to retrieve them.

His instructor smiled a fatherly sort of smile: ‘Great flight except for that last little bit at the very end. Couple more weeks and you’ll be ready to go off on your own.’

Os smiled a sonly sort of smile: ‘Must try harder.’

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